Dreams
by anim8or
Summary: For Akashi Seijuro, they're so much better than reality.


Seijuro Akashi had never been considered "sane," or even "mentally stable," but as of the past six years or so, his mind had been failing him. At his age, he supposed that it wasn't too unusual, but it was getting very bad, to the point where he sometimes forgot where he was. It was particularly bad when he slept - he'd relive his middle school days then.

But he'd come to love his dreams. They were so much more preferable than reality. For several years now, he'd lived in a nursing home. At first, it hadn't been so unbearable. Shintaro and his friend, Kazunari Takao, if Akashi remembered correctly, had been with him, and the other old men had entertained him with many different board games and countless hours spent talking about the past. But his friends had both died years ago in their sleep, leaving Akashi alone with only his memories and the occasional nurse to keep him company.

Now, he was the last member of the Generation of Miracles that still lived. It was funny, he thought, for he'd actually expected to go first. Akashi never thought he'd live to be an old man, and especially did not think he'd live to the point where he'd forget things. It seemed unfair - the rest of them, apart from Midorima, had died such premature deaths.

Atsushi had died first. The large man had broken his knee, which hadn't been a big deal when it started, but apparently while they were operating, his heart had just stopped beating. They hadn't known why - Atsushi had been young, about twenty one years old, and he should've been fine with the stress. They never truly found the reason why it had happened, and it had shaken the former members of the Generation of Miracles to their cores.

The second death occured soon after the purple-headed man had passed. Ryouta, a very accomplished model at only twenty-three years old, had a variety of sportscars that he drove way too fast. The blond had crashed into a tree going 110 miles per hour, and had died instantly, as Akashi had heard. His death affected the others just as badly as Atsushi's had, and the hole in their hearts just seemed to grow.

Satsuki and Daiki had gone next, three years after Ryouta. Aomine had been walking the pinkette home from a movie date when they'd been jumped by several men. The police had been called by a resident of the neighborhood who had heard multiple gunshots, and had arrived to find Daiki laying over Satsuki, as if to protect her. They had both died in the assault. Later that same year, Tetsuya seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth. Akashi never did find out what had happened to him.

He and Midorima had grown to be quite old, but Akashi still held onto the hope that he would not be the last to die. Now, he wondered if it was his biggest sin of all chaining him to this earth.

The sin of putting victory above everything.

Akashi's mind often drifted back to his Teiko days, back to when he and all of his friends and teammates had been together. It was always before their decline - before Aomine had started getting bored, before Atsushi's growth spurt, and before Akashi's split personality had made an appearance. When everything was fun and lighthearted and everyone enjoyed themselves. Once-vivid, these dreams had begun to grow hazy as his memories faded.

The first thing he forgot was their names. He'd still see, hear and speak to them as he always had, but for some reason, their names escaped him. No one seemed to mind, though, for they all just played basketball and listened to him as usual.

The second thing that occurred wasn't necessarily Seijuro forgetting anything. It was just that he had stopped interacting with the others. It was like he was still there, but no one heard him. All he could do was watch the others play together, but once again, it didn't bother him. They were all so entertaining, so funny and so joyful. It was like the only thing in the world that mattered was one another and, of course, basketball. Akashi didn't know how he could've ever wanted to give any of them up. How had he been so consumed with the need for victory that he'd abandoned such wonderful people?

After that, the images grew fuzzier and fuzzier, until everything eventually went dark. Then he only had their voices and the sound of a basketball dribbling on the court and swishing in the net to dream of. Occasionally there would be a flash of golden hair, a glint of glasses, or determined blue eyes, but that faded slowly as well. Their voices were the only thing that he could hear anymore. Fortunately, each of them had a specific way of talking, so Akashi could tell each voice apart. Not by name, no, and not by color anymore, either. All he could tell was that each voice was different, unique, and belonged to a person he once loved very much.

His dreams came every night and day now. Akashi was sleeping a lot more lately, partly on purpose, just so he could hear those voices again. Every time he closed his eyes, those voices would call him back to a happier time.

 _"Oi, watch this!"_ A gruff, deep, but still friendly and good-natured voice, followed by the sound of a ball dribbling on the court and sneakers squeaking, and then the swish of a net. _"I win again!"_

 _"No!"_ This one was whinier, and very put-out and childish, though Akashi could still tell he was joking... well, mostly, anyway. He could hear a foot stamp, and then the same voice again, now demanding. _"Let's do it again! Another one-on-one! I swear I can beat you this time."_

 _"Your fortune for today_ does _say that you've got a high chance of winning."_ Now _this_ was a voice Akashi could place a color to. Green, and a lot of it.

The next voice was slurred and bored, _"Can't we just stop for today? I'm hungry."_

 _"I am a little hungry, too,"_ chimed in the next - a monotonous, dull voice that made Akashi think of a shadow for some reason that he couldn't remember. _"We should get ice cream before we go back home."_

This was usually the part where Akashi woke - the part just before the voices began to fade and the sound of sneakers trailed off out of the room. The part just before he was left behind. The part where he remembered that he was still living and that the people in his dreams were long-dead. The part where reality crashed back into him and left him wanting nothing more than to rewind the clock and savor those moments far more than he actually had.

But this time was a little different.

The voices were fading, but he was not waking up.

 _"I've still got to give Akashi-kun these papers he asked for,"_ said the only female voice that he could remember hearing in his dreams. _"He's late though."_

 _"Why don't you just drop them off on the bench? He can get them when he decides to show up."_ The first, gruff voice spoke again, though it was getting harder for Akashi to hear what he was saying. It was almost like he was hearing them through a wall now, or like his ears were full of water.

It was terrifying.

Without them to listen to, he'd be alone. Everything would just be dark, and he wouldn't be able to hear the voices that he'd come to love and rely on so much.

He wanted to call out to them, to let them know that he was there. He was there, and he wanted to go with them. He wanted it so badly - the time that they had to walk down to that convenience store and buy ice cream and talk about stupid things. He wanted to be with them, even if it just meant hearing their voices. He didn't have to react or be spoken to at all. Just hearing them be with each other was enough. It would always be enough for him.

Suddenly, the black world he'd lived in for so long exploded into brilliant color once more. It wasn't that he could see _everything,_ but he found that he didn't have to. For there, in the darkness, six people appeared, their backs to him as they walked farther and farther into the murky blackness - the people he'd been listening to for years as they spoke to him in his dreams. In that instant, Akashi could remember each of their names. He could remember every detail of their faces, each of their smiles and frustrated glares and determined eyes. For the first time in a very, very long time, Akashi wasn't confused.

But he was so scared.

Were they really going to leave him forever? Was he going to have to face eternity on his own? Would it just be him and his own memories from now on? He didn't think he'd be able to stand it. But perhaps it was his punishment. Perhaps this was how things were always supposed to be.

He couldn't. He could _not_ let this happen. Fighting past the crippling fear and paralyzing thoughts, he tried for his voice, and found that it came out unbelievably easily.

"Don't leave me behind!"

Akashi could hear his own desperation, feel the tears burning his eyes as he watched the people he loved so much walking away from him. At first, it appeared that they couldn't hear him. But then, to Akashi's surprise, the green haired one craned his neck to look at him. He was quickly followed by the others - they turned to him, one at a time. Six sets of eyes - dark blue, green, gold, pink, purple and sky blue - set themselves upon Akashi, and he heard those beautiful voices once again, crisp and clear like he remembered.

"Akashicchi?" The golden-haired one asked first - Ryouta Kise.

"Aka-chin?" That was the extremely tall one - Atsushi Murasakibara.

"Akashi-kun!" The pinkette - Satsuki Momoi.

"Akashi!" The dark blue-headed one - Daiki Aomine.

"Akashi." The one who wore glasses - Shintaro Midorima.

"Akashi-kun." The sky blue-eyed one - Tetsuya Kuroko.

Seijuro almost couldn't breathe as the darkness faded altogether, and the seven of them were all standing in the Teiko Middle School basketball court - together at last. It was so bright, so unbelievably colorful and vivid that Akashi didn't even dare imagine that it was real. It was far too perfect. Yes, he had watched them and listened to them every night in his dreams, but they'd stopped seeing him long ago. He'd gone for years without anyone ever looking at him like that. It was too much to ask for this to be real.

But then...

"You're _finally_ here!" Kise bolted to him first and leaped forward to embrace him in a hug that would never have happened if Akashi weren't so near to tears, so confused, and so desperate for human contact. The blond hit him with a thud and was followed closely by Aomine, who knocked both of them to a heap on the ground.

Akashi was so in shock that he couldn't get his muddled brain to come up with a reply, so Midorima, who had come up after Akashi had been tackled, spoke. "It took you long enough to get here."

"Mido-kun's right!" Momoi pouted, putting her hands on her hips and fixing Akashi a sharp glare. "We've all been waiting for a long time to be together again."

Kuroko sighed and shook his head. "Momoi-san, Midorima-kun, you shouldn't be so harsh. I'm sure Akashi-kun didn't mean to keep us waiting for so long." His pale blue eyes fixed themselves on Akashi in a hurt way. "Even though you're the very last one to get here."

Akashi watched all of them in a mixture of fascination and disbelief from his position on the floor, and felt tears start to seep from his eyes and stream down his cheeks. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, and Aomine floundered for something to say.

"O-oi! Why're you crying?" he demanded, his navy blue eyes wide and concerned as he backed off. Kise scrambled away from Akashi as well, worry prominent in his golden orbs.

The six people gathered around him, each wearing the same concerned expression and waiting for his reply. Akashi forced away the lump in his throat and looked from person to person before putting his head in his hands and tangling his fingers in his dark pink hair. "Please, tell me... is this real?" he whispered, his voice coming out hoarse and afraid. He wasn't sure if he wanted the answer.

Silence greeted his question, and he felt his shoulders begin to tense up until he heard Murasakibara speak. "Uh, I _think_ it's real. Don't you, Mido-chin?"

Akashi looked up to make eye contact with his green-headed friend. Midorima pushed his glasses up on his nose in thought. "I believe so. Why would we be here if it weren't real?"

"Gee, that's _super_ logical, Midorimacchi," Kise pointed out, a lopsided grin on his youthful face. He was rewarded by a dull glare from the green-eyed boy. "But _I_ think it's real too."

"It _feels_ real," pondered Kuroko, and Aomine and Momoi nodded in agreement.

Akashi still couldn't think of a response. He was too overwhelmed with emotions - happiness, joy and excitement, but also worry, fear and anxiety. What if this wasn't real? What if he would wake up to darkness once more, only to forget everything about his friends once again and be left alone? What if...

"Hey..." Aomine began, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he spoke. "Why don't we just play basketball, huh? I'm sure Akashi wants to. He hasn't been able to play with us for a really long time and all..."

Kise hopped to his feet with a bright grin, clapping his hands once in approval. "Yeah, let's play! Aominecchi, we're going to have to have another one-on-one. I _have_ to beat you!" he called over his shoulder, already sprinting to go pick up one of the basketballs from the bin. Akashi realized for the first time that they were all in uniform - even himself.

"Aw, but I really wanted ice-cream," pouted Murasakibara, even though he walked over to the bin as well. His purple hair was pulled back in a little ponytail.

"You always want ice-cream, Mukkun," Momoi stated brightly as she trotted to go sit on the bench and observe Aomine and Kise as they started playing together on one side of the court. "We can get some later, after Akashi's played a few games."

Suddenly, a basketball was tossed to him, and by a reflex that he'd thought he'd lost long ago, Akashi's hands flashed out and caught it. He looked over and realized that Kuroko was the one who'd thrown it. The short boy walked over to him and extended one hand to help him to his feet, and Akashi took it thankfully before brushing himself off.

"Akashi-kun." Kuroko's voice was as quiet and gentle as always. "You should enjoy yourself. Play some basketball with us."

Akashi blinked slowly, realizing that the blue-haired boy was right. Why _shouldn't_ he play basketball with his friends? Why _shouldn't_ he be allowed to have some fun? Why should he deny himself this precious opportunity?

He smiled and bounced the ball to Kuroko lightly, reaching up to wipe the tears off of his face. "Of course. Let's get Shintaro and Atsushi to play with us so that we can split into teams," he suggested, finding that his tone was already fixing itself into a commanding one - the one he used to use back when he was their captain. It wasn't harsh, though - never harsh.

As he and the other three started their game, with the sound of Aomine teasing Kise and Momoi fussing at him in the background, Akashi decided that whether this was real or not, he was going to enjoy it for as long as he could. Because even if he woke up to a world of darkness again, he knew that he'd at least remember his friends' faces - their smiles, their laughs, their names.

Because, for the first time in so many years, his mind finally felt at peace.

* * *

 **I hope that wasn't too depressing or anything T.T Okay, okay. It was a _lot_ depressing, but I hope it was at least a little enjoyable. I definitely hope that no one was OOC, and that it all made sense. Some of it wasn't supposed to, of course, like the idea that it could've been reality that Akashi woke up to, or a dream. I'll leave that decision up to you guys. c:**

 **This came from an idea I had when I was half-asleep. I hope it's better than I think it is xP I also hope it's not like any other fanfics out there.**

 **UPDATE 5/13/2015:** _I fixed a few places that I'd messed up on. Not spelling or anything, just where things were worded strangely._

 **Word Count:** _2,864_

 **Disclaimer:** _I don't own Kuroko no Basuke. Tadatoshi Fujimaki does. It's absolutely wonderful, though!_

 **Read, review, follow, favorite, ask questions... I'll do my best to answer! I definitely don't bite.**

 **God bless you all!**

 **anim8or**


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